As I lay here, listening to Stiles' heartbeat, Isaac's words echo over and over in my head. "I can give you so much more than he can. I hope you don't regret this." Will I regret this? Yes, Stiles is a fucking god in bed, not that I'll ever admit that out loud, but so far that's all I've gotten from him. We don't talk about our feelings, which is kinda fine with me. Ugh...feelings. I'm not a "feelings" kind of person. I think if you care about people, you should be able to tell how much they care by their actions. Not having them tell you a million times that they love you. But, I will admit, it's nice to hear the words every once and awhile.
I feel like the only thing that's really changed between us, is that we have sex. A lot of sex. Stiles and his uncontrollable need to go down on me all the time, which I'm not complaining about in the slightest, is almost...possessive? And I'm not sure if it's because of this whole thing with Isaac or something else.
When you put stubborn, bullheaded people together it can become toxic. Stiles and I? It's like a nuclear bomb waiting to lay waste and obliterate anything in its path. And it scares me.
Is this whole thing a bad idea? Probably. Am I going to stop it before it gets to that point of no return? Probably not. Because as scared as I am, no one has ever made me feel the way he does, his touch is like a drug. I'm completely addicted to it already. So......I'm pretty much fucked.
"Stiles?" I mumble as I nuzzle my cheek against his chest, the small patch of hair tickling my nose.
"Hmm?" He hums sleepily, his arm tightening around me.
"Am I going to regret this?" I whisper and I hear his heart speed up and his body tense underneath me.
"No." There's a finality in his low tone, so I don't push it. I don't ask him anything else. I let it be and my eyes slide closed, breathing deeply.
I feel him press his lips to the top of my head and mumble something, but I can't make out the words. I slip off into a deep sleep.
Isaac hasn't said more than two words to me in three weeks since that phone call. Stiles' original words come back to me. "What happens if it ends badly? It will be weird and awkward for the pack." Well, it's weird. And awkward. Which is why Stiles and I have pretty much locked ourselves away in my house when we're not at school or mandatory pack meetings while we have the house to ourselves. The 'rents will be back next week, so we've taken full advantage of the alone time and space. Pretty much every surface of my house. Which reminds me...I need to buy some Lysol.
"What do you wanna do today?" Stiles fingers dance across my hip as he leans closer, his nose skimming the shell of my ear.
"I dunno...wanna watch a movie?" I try to ignore that dull ache between my legs that has become a frustratingly constant thing since this whole thing with Stiles began.
"Can we watch Batman?" His breath tickles my ear, his tone making my skin erupt in goosebumps.
"You know the rule, Stilinski. No DC Comics in my house," I smirk and a deep growl sounds in his chest.
"You are so infuriating," his teeth sink into my neck and I giggle at his playful assault, trying to cringe away from him but his hand grips my hip, holding me tighter.
He sees something behind me and scoots away from me, clearing his throat as he scratches the back of his neck. I look over my shoulder to see Scott, Lydia, Malia and Liam walking towards the picnic table and a flash of annoyance washes over me. It's amazing how quickly he can turn himself off as soon as we see our friends, making me wonder if he's ashamed at...whatever it is that's going on between us. I turn to look at him as everyone sits and he gives me a half smile, almost apologetic.
"What are you doing today?" Lydia asks me as she nibbles on a carrot stick.
"Not much. I need to study for this Chem exam. If I don't pass, Harris' sorry ass is gonna fail me."
"Bring your stuff to my house. We're kidnapping you," she gives me a mischievous smirk.
"What? Why?" So much for movie night.
"Because I feel like we haven't seen you in weeks! You've been holed up like a hermit. We need a girls night," her eyes narrow as she glances at Stiles.
"I dunno, Lyds. I really need to study."
"You have the whole weekend to study. You're not getting out of this. We can run by your house and grab your stuff after school."
I notice Stiles aimlessly flipping through his notes, trying to hide his annoyance and I suck in a deep breath, giving in to Lydia.
I drown out the chatter of the group, trying to read over my Chem notes. I can't process any of the information I'm reading, my mind too busy going a million miles a minute. I'm angry. I'm hurt. I'm confused.
I'm angry because Stiles just pretends that nothing is going on between us. Has he even told Scott what's been happening for months now? Has he confided in his best friend?
I'm hurt because it seems so easy for him turn off his feelings and guard himself. And I'm confused because, I'm not even sure what my feelings for him are. Is it more than just the earth shattering sex? I'm angry at myself mostly, because I've been too chicken shit to ask him any of these questions.
I feel his large hand come to rest between my knees under the table. He must have sensed my mood. His thumb soothes over my knee cap. I look at him out of the corner of my eye, his mask still in place as he pretends to read over his notes. It makes me even more angry. I slam my book closed, throwing it in my bag, jerking my legs out of his grasp and his head snaps up as I stand.
"I gotta go," I sling my bag over my shoulder and take off for the bathroom, not sure if I want to punch something or cry my eyes out.
"Meet me at my car after school!" I hear Lydia call out and I wave my hand as I walk away.
"What's up with her?" Malia asks, shoving a handful of chips in her mouth. All eyes fall on Stiles.
"I don't know!" He says defensively and grabs his stuff. "I gotta go see Coach," he walks away in a huff.
"He realizes that Coach is in the complete opposite direction right?" Liam snickers.
Stiles
Today 12:43pm
S: What's wrong?
Me: Nothing
S: Pretty sure that's a lie
Me: I'm fine
S: That is definitely a lie
Me: Leave me alone
S: Can't sorry
Today 12:55pm
S: Are you ignoring me?
Today 1:03pm
S: I feel like you're ignoring me
Today 1:05pm
S: I'm not gonna stop texting you so you might as well answer
Today 1:08pm
S: Please? What's wrong?
S: Are you mad at me?
I roll my eyes as I read my phone under my desk while Coach goes on and on about Decision Making and Cost-Benefit Analysis.
Today 1:12pm
Me: I'm mad at you
S: May I ask what for?
Me: I shouldn't have to explain it
No reply. Obviously he's racking his brain trying to figure out what he did that's pissed me off.
Today 1:18pm
S: Lunch?
Me: Yes
S: Because I pulled away when everyone showed up?
Me: Yep
He doesn't reply, which only makes me angrier.
When the last bell of the day rings, I bolt for my locker, grabbing my stuff before Stiles can make it from his class all the way across campus.
Lydia is waiting in her car, the radio blasting with some pop song I don't recognize. I climb in the passenger side just as Malia hops in the back.
"Yay girls night!" Lydia squeals, waving her hands.
I look back at Malia and she just shrugs, giving me a half smile.
"Let's go," I roll my eyes and wave my hand.
"So where are Allison and Kira? It's girls night, how the hell did they get out of this little shindig?" I search Lydia's fridge for something to drink. Alcohol actually. I'm looking for alcohol.
"Ally is with Scott, they have tickets to a concert tonight and Kira's parents made her go to some conference that her dad was required to show up to," Lydia says and I roll my eyes.
"Lucky bitches," I mutter as I find what I've been searching for. "Lydia, I'm stealing some of your mom's wine," I grab a glass from where they hang on the underside of the china cabinet.
"Bring me a glass too!" She calls from the living room and I smile, reaching for another glass.
I pour both glasses until they're almost full, taking a couple large gulps from mine before filling it back up, setting the empty bottle quietly in the trash can. My phone buzzes in my back pocket.
Stiles
Today 8:42pm
S: Are you still not speaking to me?
I roll my eyes and take another gulp of the tart red wine, slipping my phone back into my pocket.
"Here Lyds," I hand her her glass and her eyes widen at how full the glass is.
"Did you kill an entire bottle between these two glasses?" She narrows her eyes at me and I shrug, trying not to smile. "Jeez woman, are you trying to get drunk?"
"Maybe...definitely," plop down in the over-sized arm chair, grinning.
"So...Sparks...what up with you and Stiles?" Lydia tilts her head at me and Malia's head snaps up as she tucks her legs underneath her.
"Yeah, inquiring minds want to know. Are you guys together or what?" Malia tosses a grape in the air and catches it in her mouth.
"So, aren't we gonna watch a movie or something? I vote Mean Girls," I move to the cabinet where Lydia keeps all her Blu Rays, desperate to turn this conversation elsewhere.
"Oh no! You're not getting off that easy," Lydia sets her glass in the coffee table, sitting up straight and giving me a look that says she's not going to let this go anytime soon.
My phone buzzes in my pocket again.
Stiles
Today 8:58pm
S: Come on Sparky...
My fingers tap furiously against the screen.
Me: I'm still not speaking to you
S: I think you are, otherwise you wouldn't have replied.
Me: Because I don't want my damn phone blowing up! Leave me alone!
I throw it in the chair, a frustrated growl sounding in my chest.
"That was him wasn't it?" Lydia asks softly, not prying, more like she's making sure I'm okay.
"Yes. He can be such an ass sometimes. Then other times...I don't know. I have no idea what's going on!" I throw my hands up in exasperation. "One minute he can't keep his hands off of me and the next he acts like he can't stand me! Why are men so fucking complicated? They think we're complicated? Bullshit! You know why they're complicated? Because they. Don't. Talk. I mean they talk, but they don't "talk". How the hell am I supposed to figure this shit out if he won't tell me what he wants?" I grab my wine and drain the rest in one breath.
"Stiles likes his words. Maybe he just hasn't figured out the right ones to use?" Lydia gives me an apologetic look while Malia nods her head in agreement.
"Maybe he's scared. Maybe he does have feelings for you and he can't figure out how to sort them out. Or he's a complete asshat and using you for sex," Malia pops another grape in her mouth.
"Malia!" Lydia tosses a throw pillow at her.
"What? I mean it's true though! It's one or the other. I don't really think that he's using you though. You guys have chemistry, it's weird and slightly aggressive, but still chemistry."
"Yeah...she is right," Lydia shrugs.
"Why can't he just tell me what he wants? And why does he act like there's nothing between us when other people are around?" I run my hands through my hair, tugging at the roots in frustration.
"Why don't you just ask him?" Lydia says simply.
"No, I'm gonna let him fester for a little while. I'll talk to him tomorrow. Now, Mean Girls or what?" I hold up the movie and both girls smile.
We get thirty minutes into the movie before my phone starts going off again.
Stiles
Today 9:35pm
S: Come on babe...I miss you
S: This is killing me. I haven't been able to touch you in hours
I shift in my chair.
S: I miss that soft, beautiful skin under my fingers...
Me: NO
S: I know you're thinking about me
Me: Mhmm, I am thinking about you........I'm thinking about how much I wanna punch you in the throat
S: No you're not
S: You're thinking about my hands and how they feel when they slide up those gorgeous thighs
I actually hate him right now. Seriously.
S: How much you like when I wrap them around your hair to pull your head back...
S: Now you're thinking about my tongue...
Me: I most certainly am not
S: Lol...yeah you are. Fuck I really wanna see you
Me: No...it's girls night. NO BOYS ALLOWED!
S: I'm not gonna be able to sleep tonight if I don't see you. The scent of that coconut shampoo as you snuggle into my neck, the way your leg wraps around mine. And the way your fingers trace shapes over my chest...I can't fall asleep without that. I need to see you.
My heart drops to my stomach as I read his last message. It's completely infuriating how he can go from vulgar to sweet at the drop of a hat. We haven't spent a night apart since this whole thing started. I'm not sure if I'll even be able to sleep without him either. But there's questions that need to be answered and I'm going to get them.
Today 10:02 pm
Me: I'll text you in an hour
Lydia and Malia look like they're ready to pass out after the movie is over, so I turn on the cable and flip through the channels, finding Captain America The First Avenger. Lydia groans and turns her body to face the couch, pulling the throw over her legs. Malia curls up in the other arm chair, her lids drooping little by little until she's softly snoring.
My phone vibrates against my leg.
Today 11:35pm
S: You said an hour...
Me: Cap's on and I'm gonna finish it
S: Are you serious? Haven't you seen that movie like 100 times? He fights Red Skull, crashes the plane and gets frozen for 70 years and wakes up.
Me: Do you fondue?
S: You're ridiculous
Me: I'm hilarious
S: Can I come over? Are the other two asleep yet?
Me: Yes they are and gimme like 30 more minutes.
S: Is that how long is left on the movie?
Me: Yes
S: Ridiculous lol
I see the headlights of the Jeep through the windows before he quickly cuts them off as he pulls into Lydia's driveway. I quietly get up, draining the last bit of wine left that Lydia didn't finish and make my way to the back door. The lights from the pool emit a soft glow as I make my way to the backyard.
Today 12:09am
Me: Backyard. Treehouse.
I climb the ladder that leads up to the exquisite little house that's built into the tall Oak tree. It actually resembles a small house and I smile because I really shouldn't have expected anything less from Lydia Martin. Of course she would have the treehouse of all treehouses. There are smaller versions of the chairs from the living room in the far corners, an older TV that looks like it hasn't been used in years, and a small cedar chest. There's also a light switch. Of course Lydia has electricity in her treehouse. I flip the switch and the small space is adorned with garden twinkle lights hung thoughtfully along the ceiling. I open the small chest to find fluffy blankets and a few throw pillows. I pull them out, making a comfortable place to sit and lay on my back with my knees bent, looking at the lights above me.
"Ow! Son of a-" I hear Stiles just outside before he opens the small door, ducking inside and rubbing his head. "Thanks for telling me about the tree branch right there," he narrows his eyes at me as I smile.
"Stiles, there's a branch right there."
"Little late, Sparky, but I assume you didn't tell me as part of my punishment?"
"Yes."
"And would you like to tell me exactly why I'm being punished?"
"I thought you already knew?" I sit up and cross my legs under me.
"I have an idea, but I want to hear you say it," he sits against the tiny wall, his arms resting on the tops of his knees.
"What happened today at lunch? We were sitting there and you couldn't keep your hands off me. Then everyone else showed up and you acted like I had the plague," I keep myself calm and collected as I wait for him to answer.
"I don't know," his hand moves to rub the back of his neck. He's nervous. "I guess I'm just not ready for everyone to know about...this yet," his hand waves between us.
This does not make me want to stay calm and collected.
"Why not? Are you ashamed of whatever this is?" I pull my knees up to my chest, my arms hugging my legs. I feel that if I literally have a hold on myself, I'm less likely to punch him.
"What? No! I'm not ashamed! I just don't want people all up in our business. Is that what you think? You think I'm ashamed of you?"
"I don't know what to think because you never say anything!"
"Neither do you!"
"Well...I'm not good at stuff like this," I bow my head.
"I'm not either! I don't know what to do with all this...shit going on," his hands start waving every which way.
"So what are we doing, Stiles?"
"We...we're...I don't know. Having fun? Getting to know each other?" He stammers.
"Are we dating? Because all we seem to be doing is fucking!"
"It's not just fucking," he mumbles as he bites his thumb nail.
"Well there doesn't seem to be much else here besides the fucking, Stiles!" I stand up, unable to sit still anymore, a hot flash of anger running through me. He stands as well, closing the distance between us, a fire in his eyes.
"Are you kidding me? You really think that this is just about fucking for me? If it was all about sex do you think I would have noticed the way that you twirl your hair around your finger when you read a book? Or the way you chew on your pens when you're anxious? Or that you talk in your sleep? How your smile is just a little crooked when you laugh, or the way you pick at your cuticles when your bored. Do you really think I would have paid any attention to those things if all I wanted was to get you into bed?"
My pulse pounds in my ears as his hand comes up to cup my cheek, those brown eyes softening but still blazing.
"Or the way you blush when I get close to you like this," his thumb brushes across my heated cheek. "It's so much more. I just," he takes a deep breath. "I just want you all to myself, for a little longer."
I can't seem to find any words, so I grab his shirt, pulling him to me, my lips meeting his in a fervent kiss. His hands slip under my ears as his mouth moves slowly against mine, a soft hum sounding in his throat and it makes me melt into him.
In his own way, everything he's just told me, tells me that he does care. And for right now, it's enough.
I slip my hands under his shirt, around to his lower back and lightly drag my nails against his skin. He softly moans and I take the chance to slide my tongue against his. It's soft, unlike the aggressive and firm way we usually kiss. It's slow and precise and it sends a shiver down my spine. He wraps an arm around my waist, pulling me closer, leaving no space between us. He softly sucks on my bottom lip before he pulls back, those golden eyes shining in the dim light.
He doesn't say anything, just lets his eyes wander my face as his thumb strokes lightly along my jaw. The way he looks at me, actually makes me weak, my knees start to shake and I grip onto him a little tighter. His eyes meet mine again and the corner of his mouth pulls to the side before his lips are on mine again.
We've never spent this much time just kissing, but it feels so good, I'm sure I would be okay with doing it forever. The burn is slower than usual. Most of the time he just has to touch me in the right spot and it feels like I'm going to combust.
But now it's like, when you're freezing cold and sit by a fire and the warmth from the flames slowly seep into you, all the way to your bones and before you know it you have to back away, because you were so comfortable in that warmth, you didn't even realize that you were starting to catch fire.
Those magnificent hands slowly slide up and down the curves of my body, his fingertips kneading into the soft flesh of my hips as he presses his body harder against mine. I reach up, wrapping my arms around his neck, the heels of my feet lifting off the ground to get closer to him and he makes a noise that comes out somewhere between a whine and a moan as my body slides against him. His lips trail across my jaw as his hand slides under my shirt and up my side, his thumb brushing over the soft lace of my bra.
"I need you," he breathes and something in the way he says it makes my heart skip a beat.
"I'm here," my hand runs up the back of his neck to play with the short hair.
Stiles pulls back, lifting the hem of my shirt, his hands skimming slowly over my breasts as he pulls it over my head and tosses it to the floor. His thumb brushes across my lower lip as his tongue swipes across his and his fingertips slowly drag down my neck, over my chest and down my stomach, leaving my skin tingling in the wake of his touch. His eyes never leave mine. He pops the button on my shorts, dragging the zipper down its track and slips his hands in and around to my backside, pushing them down off my hips and they pool at my feet. He steps back, his eyes seeming to worship me all the way down to my mint green painted toe nails.
"You are so fucking gorgeous," his breath hitches in his throat and my cheeks flame under his gaze and suddenly, for the first time, I feel a little shy and dip my head, a small smile lifting my lips. His finger hooks under my chin until I meet those beautiful browns. "Gorgeous," he annunciates slowly.
I inch up his shirt and he grabs the fabric at the back of his neck and pulls it off. I've seen him with his shirt off countless times by now, but I take my time to really appreciate how he looks as he stands bare chested before me now. My index finger starts at his collarbone, tracing over the patch of moles that stand out, down to the right side of his chest to the lone dot just above his nipple and then to the left side of his ribs.
I feel his heart race under my touch, his chest rising and falling more quickly the more I take all of him in. I look up at him to find his eyes dark, the black of his pupils almost completely swallowing the soft brown, a crease between his brows as they furrow slightly. The way they look when his mind is moving a million miles a minute. His tongue darts out to wet his lips as I reach and slip the button on his khakis through the small hole and pull the zipper down. They easily fall off his slim waist and he toes his shoes off and rids himself of his pants and socks.
I lay back on the plush blankets and pillows, my knees bent and watch as he kneels in front of me, grabbing my left ankle. He trails featherlight kisses up my leg and over my knee, stopping midway up my thigh.
His lips on my skin makes my blood sing in my veins and that dull ache begins to intensify as he starts on my right leg, mirroring what he did with the left. His fingers splay on the outside of my thigh as he continues up, past where he stopped on the other side. His nose brushes lightly over over the soft purple lace, nudging a little harder over my clit and I pull my lips between my teeth to suppress the whine that rises in my throat.
I feel his breath against my clothed heat as he places a soft kiss before moving up my stomach. His open mouth glides along the waistband of my panties, his tongue dragging along sporadically from one hip to the other and he nips gently at my hip bone and I push my hips up against him.
His right hand wraps around the back of my left thigh, holding me in place as he moves up my torso, praising me with his mouth. My skin feels like it's on fire as I writhe beneath him, his new approach completely ruining me and he hasn't even really touched me where I want him to most.
"Stiles," the breathy whine that escapes me sounds foreign in my own ears.
This boy is going to wreck me.
"Shhh," he tries to soothe me and I squirm again.
His index finger slips under the front clasp of my bra, popping it open as he crooks his finger. "These really are very convenient," he smiles deviously before he kisses over my breast.
His tongue swirls lazily around my nipple and it hardens as he wraps his lips around it, his teeth grazing the sensitive skin. My hand moves to run through his hair as he sucks and nibbles at the hard bud. I raise my hips, looking for something to quell the throbbing pressure between my legs, but come up short. He teases the other breast equally.
My heart slams so hard against my chest, my body humming with need, I feel like I will literally burst into flames if he doesn't touch me.
"Please," I beg and I realize it's the first time I have ever actually begged him for anything. He raises his head, brown eyes peeking up through those long lashes and I bite my lip as a small whimper slips out.
"Okay," he whispers and his lips press hard against mine.
He rests his elbow beside my head as that large hand slides down the length of my body, slipping past the lace, straight to my pussy. He coats his fingers in my wetness, up and around my clit before he pushes them inside me and it feels so excruciatingly good that my eyes fill with tears as I moan. He kisses across my jaw, down to the spot just below my ear that he knows I love as he slides his fingers in and out.
Stiles pulls back, pushing his boxers down and off his hips, kicking them off when they get low enough.
My breathy pants are obscene. My need for him is obscene. And the way my heart lurches in my chest when he looks down at me as he enters me is anything but. He fills me all the way, stilling and brushes a few stray locks of hair off my face and cups his hand around my cheek. His kiss is firm and full of passion and I tighten around him deep inside. He moans roughly into my mouth.
"You...are amazing," he rests his forehead against mine as his eyes slip closed and he starts to roll his hips.
Slow, hard and yet at the same time gentle. This is nothing like it's been before. This feels different? No bad different, no,definitely good different. My body syncs with his, meeting him thrust for thrust, curving just the right way that it feels like this is how it's always supposed to be. All the other times were good, more than good, but this feels right. More right than anything I've ever felt.
My arms wrap around his back, my fingers sliding along the smooth expanse of his skin. Our bodies glisten with sweat as we move together, as we fall farther and farther into this abyss of passion that I'm positive will obliterate and completely break me.
This boy has wrecked me. There's not a single doubt in my mind anymore.
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this is so fucking cute I don't know what to do with my life.
©️ @smutandahalf @completelydylantrash